


some, and now none of you

by 3rdgymbros



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, Character Death, Death, Deathfic, F/M, Heavy Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-30 05:27:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14489796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3rdgymbros/pseuds/3rdgymbros
Summary: When you wake up, you know that you’re in hell. There’s an intense heat running under your skin, setting your shoulder on fire. Despite the throbbing of your legs and the daggers in the back of your head, you struggle to sit up.[ INFINITY WAR SPOILERS ]





	some, and now none of you

**Author's Note:**

> Okay. It has literally been years since I’ve written a Peter Parker reader insert, but here I am. And I am not okay. I’ve just finished watching IW, and That Scene™ fucked me up, so I changed it. And I made it better ( or worse, depending on how you look at it ). Please, please, review or comment if you liked this, and I’ll consider writing more while I still have the muse for Peter. Part of the reason why I stopped was because no one commented,,, and that kind of put a damper on things, because I assumed no one liked reading my stuff.

> I had all and then most of you,
> 
> some and now none of you.

 

When you wake up, you know that you’re in hell. There’s an intense heat running under your skin, setting your shoulder on fire. Despite the throbbing of your legs and the daggers in the back of your head, you struggle to sit up.

“No, don’t move,” A face swims into view. It is covered in ash and blood, but the warm brown eyes that peer at you are filled with tears. The hands that cradle you are cold, but they are infinitely gentle as they hold your battered body. “ **( Name )**? Oh, God, **( Name )** , I’m so sorry.”

 _“Peter,”_ You whisper, feeling some relief as you say his name. “Peter, is that really you?”

It can’t be. Germany, the fight at the airport, how you’d said all those cruel words to him, your face twisted up in mingled rage and despair – _“WE WERE NEVER FRIENDS! I HAVE ALWAYS HATED YOU!”_ – it all comes back to you in a rush. All the hurt you felt – _feel_ – pours out of you in a whimpered sob.

For a second, his face breaks with the start of a cry, but he tries to fix a broken smile on his face. You reach out, touch his cheek. “Yeah, **( Name )**. It’s me.”

It feels like you’re **burning** from the inside out. You shouldn’t move; moving will make the pain worse. But you do, because warmth is pulsating down your arm, seemingly from that spot on your shoulder. You move the white fabric of your shirt to peek at it. There’s a grey blotch, darker in the center, the skin _cracked_ and _broken_ and _dead_.

As you watch, in a kind of dazed horror, the blackened skin flakes off. It’s like gold leaf on a cheap antique – just flaking away, until the entirety of your shoulder and arm has dissolved into ash.

There’s a sharp intake of breath. Peter’s face _crumples_. The ghostly imprint of your hand stays on the curve of his cheek. You feel two hot drips of tears land on your face, your cheeks, sliding down your neck.

You hold your remaining hand out. It _trembles_. Peter laces his fingers with yours. He closes his eyes, and you feel all of your emotions, your _love, fear, sadness_ , rush out of you and through him. He _feels_ it. He _sees_ it. Everything you’ve _done_. Everything you’ve _felt_.

And you smile.

He _knows_.

You know what’s about to happen.

But even with that, you try to hold on, your heart crumbling in your chest first, because you don’t want to _leave_. Not when this is the first glimpse of Peter that you’ve gotten in two years. Your body is strangely free of pain except for a faraway ache.

Your hand _slips_ , right through his, but you still smile through the tears pricking your eyes. Even at the end, you’re still _happy_ , so, so _happy_ that he’s here with you. “Peter . . . Have you . . . Have you come to see me?”

( Your lower body is starting to disappear now. You barely feel it. )

This time, Peter can’t hide the choke of tears that comes out. “Yeah, **( Name )**. I really . . . I really wanted to see you. I missed you so, _so_ much.”

“I did too. It was really . . .” _Lonely._ On the run, with no way to contact him, the words a tangled knot in your chest, your uncertainty marring your desire to talk to him. With difficulty, you manage to lock eyes with Peter. “I’m sorry we fought. We could have been . . .”

And you see it. The future that you could have had. What the two of you could have been. _The two of you, laden down with boxes, ducking into a brand new apartment. A corsage of roses on your wrist, Peter’s smile shy and hesitant as he invites you to dance. A ring sparkling on your finger, and roses flooding your cheeks. A fair, beautiful baby in your arms, with Peter’s cocoa brown hair and eyes . . ._

“ **( Name )** , please don’t.” Peter’s voice breaks, refuses to put itself back together. “Please don’t go. Please don’t leave me.”

Your skin is tearing, your body disappearing from existence, and you’re fading away into nothing.

_“I love you.”_

And then, just at that moment, when you’re no longer sure if you’re still alive or awake or have already ascended to some higher plane of existence, you feel the flutter of lips on yours, but it’s too late, you’re _slipping_ , you’re _gone_ , _he’s_ gone, and the moment curls away and back on itself like a flower folding up for the night.


End file.
